


boundlessness

by thescyfychannel



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/F, F/M, Multi, Temple, Witches, warriors - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-19 10:35:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22243051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescyfychannel/pseuds/thescyfychannel
Summary: Dirk's latest problem: Apparently, the oceanisfull of free, magical girlfriends, and at least one of them is absolutely interested in a polyamorous relationship with the Temple Maiden he's been charged with guarding.
Relationships: Feferi Peixes/Dirk Strider, Jane Crocker/Dirk Strider, Jane Crocker/Feferi Peixes, Jane Crocker/Feferi Peixes/Dirk Strider
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20
Collections: Polyswap Winter Promptfest - Dusk Edition





	boundlessness

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [Sartorially](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sartorially/pseuds/Sartorially) in the [Polyswap_Winter_Promptfest_Dusk_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Polyswap_Winter_Promptfest_Dusk_2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> A Maid serving in the Temple of Life and her loyal Prince, a title awarded to warriors of renown, go on a grand journey to see the Wonderful Witch of the Waves. Maybe one of them is ill and seeks treatment? Maybe they're journeying for wealth or fame? No matter what started the journey, neither of them expected the Witch would be this pretty.

"Fuck," the Temple Maiden mutters, and you nod your agreement, staring up at the statue before you. The stained glass all around you. There's so much beauty in this place that neither of you had expected to see when you'd begun this journey to seek out the Wonderful Witch of the Waves—it's not that you haven't seen her imagery despite having lived in an ocean kingdom, no, not that you hadn't bothered to read the sacred texts' words of description or listen to the songs about the Witch herself, it's just that...well...

The imagery had tended towards the abstract, the sacred texts had mad egregious use of metaphor, and the songs tended to centre on the _acts_ of the Witch of the Waves more than the Witch herself.

So, no. Nothing had prepared you for this, this marvel carved from the purest marble (was it even marble, that beautiful stone that seemed to shine with an inner light, too colourful to be true marble for sure), this image of she for whom you are searching.

And now you're doing it again. Going on long tangents in your head while you stare at another great beauty. It's a trait you've given in to far too often for your tutors' tastes, with several kingdom notables, royal boys and girls from distant lands (and most recently, a temple maiden you'd been assigned to guard). _You were given the title of prince for a_ reason _, Dirk_ , they would tell you. _It is a gift only only warriors of great renown may ever dream of receiving. You have a higher purpose, a greater calling! Focus!_

So, you know. You had. Mostly.

Then you'd been assigned to Jane and she hadn't _minded_ the staring. She'd even done a bit of her own.

And you, of course, were stupid enough to take that as open permission to follow her, well. Everywhere.

"If you like that, you ought to see the tapestry the last visitor left me." The voice is dry and amused, an odd feeling when you're expecting "bubbly", and your head whips right around to see who's speaking.

The Wonderful Witch of the Waves is not behind you.

You, a seasoned veteran of bullshittery and shenanigans, simply sigh and turn back again.

She's sitting at the feet of her statue, looking over some of the gifts you and Jane had brought with a cautiously interested eye.

You roll your eyes. "Do you play that prank a lot?" It's something about her expression (her tone, her life, the lightness about her), that's making it hard for you to remember that she's on par with all the goddesses and gods of your world. You want to talk to her like a friend. You want to treat her like a friend.

Oh, fuck. You think you might want to _be_ her friend.

"Only on people who might deserve it," the Witch says, meeting your eyes head on. Then she turns away from you (you can breathe again; you cannot think about why this is) and moves like dancing water across the floor to sweep the Temple Maiden up into her arms. "Jane, you look beautiful! I've been hoping we could meet soon, angelfish."

* * *

(here is the untold beginning of the story: Jane comes to you as dawn breaks, one night-day, and tells you that she's been dreaming of the Wonderful Witch of the Waves. _I'm feeling a pull towards her_ , she says, small and scared, like she's done something wrong by admitting it, like she feels wrong for having these dreams at all.

 _okay,_ you tell her, squeezing her hands tight, looking her right into usually clear blue eyes that are, right now, a sky full of clouding tears. _okay. we'll go find her for you._

and you do, because of course you do. because that's what you do.)

* * *

"So—so you really were sending for me?" Jane is one of the most confident people you've ever known, and to see her uncertain has always been more of a stab to the heart than any of the actual times you've gotten stabbed. "I wasn't dreaming it?"

"You absolutely were dreaming it!" You're ready to snarl out a warning, as Jane's shoulders slump, but there is no malice in this strange Witch's face. "But only because I willed you to dream it. Er. Did I say something wrong?"

"No," you grind out. Even caught up like this, you can recognize an oncoming mood, and from the way Jane's suddenly back to good-natured smiles, from the wicked smirk she tosses your way, she knows exactly what's causing it. "You're fine."

(she'd recognized the moods when they'd been about her, too. you're lucky she was better at this than you, and also willing to solve your problems for you.)

The smile the Witch turns on you is unearthly and eerie and a thousand other words you cannot allow yourself to think. "That's good to hear, Dirk," she says, and fuck that is her hand reaching out for you, the other one attached to the exact same arm that is still wrapped around a much-too-knowing Jane's shoulders. "Come."

You go. Feet move first, instinct taking over, obeying a pretty girl already engrained into you.

You're going overboard with the metaphors: Basically, it's second nature, and by the time you catch yourself overdoing the mental ramble, one of her arms is comfortably around her waist. You're so much taller than her, than the fucking Wonderful Witch of the Waves.

"Oh, and Dirk?" 

You swallow hard. "Yeah?"

"Call me Feferi from now on, please!"

You do.


End file.
